Violet Jacob > Flemington

THE VANISHING BIRD
339
heart sink within him. One thing about Archie
stood out plain—he was not going to shirk his
duty to his king and yet take Government
money. Whatsoever his doings, the prisoner
who sat in the tent over yonder would be lying
under the earth to-morrow because he was pre¬
pared to pay the last price for his scruple. No>
he was not soft.
Callandar would have died sooner than let him
escape, yet his escape would have made him
glad.
Callandar came across the camp and passed
between the two sentries into Flemington’s
tent. The young man looked up from his
writing.
“You are busy,” said the officer.
“ I have nearly done. There seems so much to
do at the last,” he added.
The other sat down on the bed and looked at
him, filled with grief. The lantern stood by
Archie’s hand. His head was bent into the circle
of light, and the yellow shine that fell upon it
warmed his olive skin and brought out the brown
shades in his brows and hair. The changing
curves of his mouth were firm in the intensity of
his occupation. He had so much expression as a
rule that people seldom thought about his features
but Callandar now noticed his long chin and the
fine lines of his nostril.
His pen scratched on for a few minutes; then
he laid it down and turned round.
“You have done me many kindnesses, Callan-